


Dearly Departed

by kiddle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Break Up, Broken Engagement, Engagement, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Break Up, i tried editing this but it still is what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddle/pseuds/kiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After breaking off a five year relationship and engagement, Harry tries to piece together what went wrong between him and Louis over the years. With an invite to a mutual friend’s birthday party and a lot of reminiscing, they get one more chance to figure out if it’s worth it to try and fix everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dearly Departed

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by songs off of the album Astoria by Marianas Trench. I don't take credit for any lines directly from songs on the album. I strongly recommend listening to the song Dearly Departed off of the album before reading.

He can't sleep. It's been weeks since he's actually slept through the night. This time, he wakes with a shiver, a cool breeze flowing in from the window left open the night before. He wants to get up, but the drowsiness is pulling him back to bed. It's crawling up his body to his brain, begging it to shut off for the night; pleading for just a few hours of peace. He wonders if it will ever give in.

It's sudden when he feels the weight of an arm curl around him. A warm body pressed to his back, shielding him from the dropping temperature of the room. It's all too familiar, but brings an empty feeling to his stomach. He turns and brings his hand up to touch the phantom limb, but it's gone as soon as his fingers graze the top of the duvet. The cold is back, feeling more like a brisk wind. He rips the blanket off of him, surrendering to nature as he stands up.

With a hunched posture and burning eyes from an interrupted sleep, he forcefully slides the window closed. He tries not to look at the bed as he makes his return. The other side is still neatly made, not having been disturbed since it was abandoned by its rightful owner.

He lies awake for two more hours before he falls asleep again, half an hour before his alarm will go off. Sleep is the only escape he can get and his body will hardly even allow him that. With eyes closed tight, his mind is cluttered with thoughts as dark as the room surrounding him. One that had been echoing in his head was loudest at this time. The curiosity of whether he’d ever love again, or if the one love is all that he’d get.

~

_Present Day._

"You need to get out of the house, mate. Why don't we go to the cinema or something? We'll see a good action or comedy," Niall suggests from the couch as he scrolls through movie listings on his phone. Harry walks towards him from the kitchen with a glass of water.

"I don't know if I'll make it through without passing out. I've been having trouble sleeping lately," Harry says as he sits next to him.

"How about shopping? When's the last time you bought groceries?"

"Maybe a week ago," Harry looks straight ahead at the football highlights playing on TV. Niall narrows his eyes before marching towards the fridge. He pulls the door open and is met with a small carton of milk, a block of moldy cheese, some leftover takeaway, and various old bottles of condiments.

"What have you been eating?" he calls from across the room. Harry shrugs. "Alright, get dressed. We're going to buy you some food."

Harry groans and buries his face in the pillow beside him. The furthest he's gone from home was to the clothing shop he manages. He wasn't supposed to still be working at the shop at this point. That wasn't part of his plan. In Uni, Harry had studied film, hoping to write and even direct. After he got the job at the shop, he moved up the ladder quickly and was now making more than enough to support himself. He still wants to work in film, but for now he needs to pay the bills.

Harry returns from his room a few minutes later in ankle cuffed sweats and a sporty jumper that's a bit too tight on him. It's probably not his, anyway. He used to take pride in what he wore, but he didn't have the energy to lately. There was no one, besides himself, to look good for anymore.

Niall drives them to the grocery store just a few blocks outside Astoria, the neighbourhood they –er –Harry, lives in. It’s quite a beautiful day in the middle of summer. There’s not a cloud in the light blue sky and the temperature is perfect for spending some time outdoors. Harry doesn’t notice. He stares out the window, lost more in his thoughts than his surroundings. Niall pulls into a parking stall, getting out before Harry even processes that they’re there. He hasn’t even thought about what he should buy for food yet. Not that he really cares either. Niall could just get whatever he wanted for the two of them.

Back in college, Harry and Niall met when they were assigned as roommates. They got on instantly, especially during their shared love of partying before Harry regained his focus on his studies. However, they always remained friends, even continuing as roommates after college.

Now, Niall was planning on staying with Harry for a few days after discovering that he isn’t exactly doing the best job of taking care of himself. They argued about it over the phone before Niall decided to just show up at his door. Harry didn’t need a babysitter, he claimed. He is 22 years old; he can take care of himself.

 “Have you thought about getting a new place?” Niall asks with hesitance in his voice. They walk side by side with their hands in their pockets as they enter the store. Harry reaches for a basket, but Niall heads for a cart instead. “You’re going to need more than a basket’s worth of food, man. Your flat is empty.”

Harry drops the basket back down in defeat and strolls beside the cart Niall is now pushing. He knows he isn’t exactly being the kindest friend to him. Niall just wants to help, but Harry doesn’t need it. He could move on if he is just given a little more time to himself- if he wasn’t forced into it.

“No,” Harry says, answering Niall’s question from before, “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Maybe getting out of there would be good for you to-”

“Do you know where he’s staying?” Harry interrupts, looking Niall in the eye as they walk towards the frozen food aisle. There was an unspoken agreement before they went shopping that if Harry was going to go to the effort to actually make food, it would come out of a box and go right in the oven.

“Zayn’s, I think. Speaking of the guys,” Niall changes the subject. He’s looking at the stacks of frozen pizzas behind a glass door, “are you coming to Liam’s birthday party?”

“Is _he_ going to be there?” Harry asks, leaning his body over the handle of the cart as Niall loads it with a couple of pizzas, lasagnas, and individual dinners.

“Probably, but a lot of people will be there so you might not even see him. Sophia booked a banquet room in a hotel so it’s going to be quite the event.” They walk down the next aisle for cereal, Niall immediately going for the most sugary cereals he can find.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry decides, sticking to his new job as the cart-pusher while Niall keeps adding more food. He doesn’t ask for Harry’s input once, but Harry doesn’t care anyway.

They finish off the last couple aisles, talking about anything but the topics Harry wanted to avoid. He's grateful that Niall finally caught on to what he should and shouldn’t bring up. Harry glances into the cart that is now three quarters of the way full, having no clue how much any of this food is going to cost him.

“I’m just going to look at the birthday cards for Liam. Do you want to go pick out some fruit or something?”

“Sure,” Harry replies as Niall turns to leave, “Wait. Can you pick something out from me too? I should probably get him something, regardless if I go or not. Just grab something generic, I’ll write in it.”

“Of course,” Niall smiles before walking away again.

Harry pushes the cart slowly, dragging his feet on the ground, until he reaches the produce section. He looks at the oranges first. Those are something he can survive off of for at least a few days without having to put effort into preparing it. It isn’t that Harry doesn’t want to eat; it’s just too much of a hassle so he eats whatever is simple. He has more important things to think about.

As he’s feeling around for the best looking fruits, he notices a familiar presence beside him. Panic takes over as if he’s being faced with his worst fear. The person is filling a plastic bag full of apples and Harry hasn’t even seen his face yet, but he _knows_. He shouldn’t have come grocery shopping. He shouldn’t have even left the house. If he really wanted, he could just abandon the cart here or head in the other direction. Anything to avoid the possibility of confrontation. He soon realizes he’s been thinking for too long when the person speaks.

“Harry,” a voice hums low in his ear and he looks at him. His face is hollow and he has tired eyes. He's dressed up slightly to mask how tired he looks wearing a white t-shirt covered by a denim button-down. His hair is even done to look as feathery as usual. He doesn’t look well, but he looks good. He always looks good.

“Louis,” he replies in a much quieter tone. Their eyes are locked and Harry wants to look away so bad. Wants to stop feeling anything when he sees him. He thought that maybe by now, he wouldn’t.

“How are you doing?” Louis asks, mirroring the tone Harry used before.

“Good, good,” It’s an obvious lie and they both know it. One look at Harry would give it away. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

There’s a pause of silence and it’s so uncomfortable. Harry doesn’t know what to ask or how to even leave the conversation. He’s too overwhelmed and a knot is forming in his gut and he just wants to go home. This is the kind of scene he'd expect to see in a dramatic romance movie, not actually live it.

“Good. Still enjoying your time off?” Louis was a school teacher so he never worked over the summer.

“Yeah, I go back next week. Is work going alright with you?”

“Never better,” And Harry smiles the most forceful smile he’s ever attempted. He can only hold it for a few seconds before he’s cheeks actually cramp up. It’s like his emotional pain is masking as physical pain as well.

It’s during the second wave of silence that a man walks up behind Louis. A man that Harry doesn't think he has ever seen before. In his mind, Harry skims through people that Louis had once introduced him to, co-workers he can no longer remember the names of. His suspicions are confirmed when the man is introduced.

“Oh, Harry, this is Eli. Eli, this is my old friend, Harry.”

_Old friend._

The words sting, but Harry knows why he said it. He's Louis’ ex, and introducing the new person you’re with to your ex is more than awkward. His brain was coming up with a battle plan already from the rush of jealousy he could feel. It brought back the hurt from how easy it was for Louis’ to let him go. How he didn’t even put up a fight. Didn’t try to show Harry how much he cared. _This means war_ , he thinks, far too dramatically. Except the battle is over and he’s already lost. They both have, really.

“It’s good to meet you,” Harry lies again, “but I really should get going. I’m here with a friend and he’s probably waiting for me,” he doesn’t mention who the friend is.

“Alright, well, it was nice to see you, Harry,” Louis tells him as he turns away.

“You too,” _lie, lie, lie._

When he finds Niall in the greeting card section, he feels like he’s going to cry, except nothing would come out. It’s more like a sick feeling than anything. His stomach is doing summersaults and there’s a thick lump in the back of his throat. He won’t cry. He’s done with crying.

“I thought you were getting fruit?” Niall looks confused when he sees him return empty handed. He reaches over and places the back of his hand on Harry’s forehead. “You don’t look so great, man. You’re burning up.”

“Yeah, uh, something came up,” He admits. Niall doesn’t ask what it is until they’re back at home, unloading groceries, and Harry breaks into a mess of silent tears.

~

_June, 2010._

It was the beginning of summer and Harry had just finished his last exams of the year, which obviously meant he needed to go to a party. Most of the people at his school were attending a huge bush party complete with a bonfire, more than enough alcohol, and teenagers snogging against trees. It was a perfect way to kick off the summer.

Harry walked to the party with a small group of friends, his best friend Liam at his side. Excitement bounced off the group as they found the path they would lead them to the large open field where the party was being held. In the middle of a field, a bonfire was blazing strong with a few kids sat around it, laughing loudly with cans of beer in their hands. Someone had brought their car down from the back path and had music blasting out of the rolled down windows.

It wasn’t long before Harry had already lost most of his friends to the crowd and a beer was being shoved in his hand by Liam. He didn’t even notice him leave to grab some.

“Have you seen Dani around yet? She told me she was already here,” Liam asked.

Unbeknownst to him, this was the night Liam would break up with his first girlfriend. Harry remembers, clearly, having to console an extremely hungover and upset Liam the next day. But they were going to colleges that were on opposite sides of the country so it didn’t come as a shock to Harry when he heard the news. Dani was planning on waiting until the day after the party to tell him, but Liam starting going on about taking a gap year to move to London with her and she just couldn’t lead him on any longer. It took a couple of weeks, but Liam got over it. He’s been with Sophia for three years now and Harry’s sure he's going to pop the question soon enough.

“Isn’t that her by the bonfire,” Harry nodded towards a group of about four girls sitting in a semi-circle on the grass, Dani being one on the end.

“Yeah, hey, I’ll catch up with you later. Alright, mate?” Liam was already backing away and gone before Harry could even answer.

Harry looked down at his drink and chugged half of it right there. He glanced around at all the people he’d known from years of attending school together. Most were off in their own separate friend groups, sizes varying from two to more than he felt like counting. He felt oddly out of place there. It wasn’t like he wasn’t the type to party, he’s had his fair share of late nights and hangovers. This, of course, was a time before Harry started college and realized his studies were more important to him than partying. As for the people, he knew most by name. Maybe it wasn’t being here so much as what would happen after. He’d move away from home and go off to college, eventually get a job and maybe find someone to settle down with. This could be his last night truly free from responsibility. He couldn’t waste it.

“Harry, man! Good to see you,” he heard the words being shouted at him before a heavy arm swung over his shoulders. A dark haired, yet bright faced, boy wearing a letterman jacket approached him with a grin.

“Hey Zayn, you alright?” he asked, just as cheerfully, supporting the weight of Zayn leaning against him.

“I’m great! Why don’t you come hang out with the guys?” He suggested, pointing to a group of boys hanging out around the car that was blasting music. Two were perched on the hood and another three were standing around it. They waved Harry over, looking friendly enough that he didn't hesitate to approach them.

As Harry got closer, he realized one of the boys on the hood he did not recognize. The boy smiled at him immediately, but Harry darted his eyes away shyly. There was no way he’d seen this boy around. He looked to be around his age, maybe a bit older. His brown hair was swooped to the side and his cheekbones popped out when he smiled. The same action made his eyes crinkle sweetly and his overall appearance softer. He _wished_ he’d known this boy.

“I don’t think you’ve met Louis yet. Louis, this is Harry,” Zayn said, signaling between the two.

“Good to meet you,” Harry said, voice cracking.

“Puberty hitting a little late?” Louis joked, causing a chorus of laughter among the group. Harry smiled to hide his embarrassment. It wasn’t that funny of a comment, but he seemed to give off a vibe of being humours in most things he said. It wasn’t hard to pick up that he was the Ferris Bueller of the group; the leader, even.

“Oh, believe me, I am _done_ ,” He spoke without really thinking about what he was saying. There was a lot of things he could be referring to. Body parts included.

 “Show a little modesty, please!” Louis said, still laughing and Harry regretted everything.

“I like you, kid. Come sit up here with me. Eddie, you’ve been replaced.” Louis lightly pushed Eddie off of the hood of the car, but he still landed flat on his arse, spilling the contents of his red cup all over the ground. He groaned and stood back up, dusting the grass of his trousers. The group cackled while Louis patted the freshly open spot for Harry. He hesitated for a moment, but decided he wanted to get to know this Louis guy a bit better. Maybe the interaction was going better than he thought.

After an hour of talking and joking and laughing and drinking, the sun was long set and most of the guests were gathered around the fire. It was all they had for light and warmth, unless you count the flashlights a few were smart enough to bring.

Louis sat next to Harry near the back of the crowd and leaned in to speak.

“Hey, do you want to see something cool?” Harry looked at him, puzzled, but nodded anyway. “Alright, follow me then.”

Harry walked behind Louis as he led them back towards the bush of trees and down a skinny dirt trail. His confusion remained as they passed the spot where couples usually made out and went deeper into the woods. It was getting so dark that Harry reached into his pocket to take out his phone to use for light, but Louis already beat him to it with a real flashlight that seemed to come out of nowhere. Harry could only barley make out the smirk on his face as he clicked it on and continued down the path. As they got deeper and deeper, the branches tangling in his hair and scratching over his arms.

“Where are we going?” Harry finally asked.

“You’ll see. It’s worth it, trust me.” Louis stopped and turned to pat Harry on the back reassuringly.

It wasn’t long after that Louis made his declaration that they reached the spot he was talking about. He pointed the flashlight all around the area that turned out to be a small creek with slow moving water. It was no more than a few meters wide and flowed farther than they could see, but it looked deep enough to swim in. Which happened to be Louis’ exact plan.

This was the kind of place he could see young kids coming to play in on a hot summer day, laughing and enjoying their youth, then reminisce about it long into their late years of life. Their grandchildren perched on their laps listening to the stories of the good ol’ days. The leech scene in the movie _Stand by Me_ came to mind as he looked down at the water, feet slightly over the edge.

“Care for a dip?” Louis raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

“Are you crazy?” Harry exclaimed, “It’s the middle of the night and that water is probably disgusting. Not to mention we have no clue what kind of animals are around.”

“Relax, mate” Louis sat the flashlight down on a rock so it would illuminate the area they could swim in, “I do this all the time. The water is perfectly clean and the scariest animal you’ll see is a deer that will run away as soon as it sees us anyway. C’mon!”

Louis was already undressing down do his boxers and motioning towards Harry to do the same. He started just taking off his jacket first then hesitated.

“It’s going to be freezing!” He complained.

“We won’t be very long and besides, there’s a fire to warm us up back there anyway. Live a little, Harry!” Louis cheered as he ran down to the edge and jumped about three feet off the rocks and into the water. His whole body went under so it had to be deeper than he thought.

 Louis’ head bobbed in the water when he popped back up and glared at Harry. “Don’t make me pull you in.”

Harry finally surrendered and stripped down until he was in his pants and nothing else. He shivered for a moment, already regretting his decision, then took a leap of his own. He splashed into the water, feet hitting the ground as the cold water surrounded his body. When he reached the surface again, he gasped for air. More out of surprised for the sudden change in body temperature than actual lack of oxygen. When he found the other boy again, he was met with a splash of water to the face and a giggling Louis. Harry laughed and returned the unwanted favour which lead to a full on water fight, complete with plenty of chasing and head dunking.

“Now that’s more like it,” Louis grinned after they had agreed to a truce. He decided he’d reached his goal of getting Harry to cut loose as he shifted to float on his back, holding on to a log that was still attached to the edge so he wouldn’t drift away.

“Why do you do this?” Harry asked as he slicked his hair back.

“It relaxes me,” he said simply, closing his eyes. Harry swam towards the log and pushed most of himself up onto it, only his from waist-down still in the water. He looked up at the night sky when he saw Louis doing the same. It was a quarter moon so the sky was fairly dark, but the stars were easy to see.

“How come I’ve never seen you at school?” Harry asked after a few moments of peaceful silence.

“I’m in college, two years ahead of you guys. Eddie’s my cousin and he asked me to buy you young-ins some booze for the night and give him and his friends a ride. I thought I’d hang out for a bit.”

“Ah, so you’re the boot?”

“That I am.”

“What are you studying in school?” he watched the water splash lightly against Louis’ torso.

“I want to be a teacher- maybe coach footie- so mostly athletics for now. What about you? What are you going to study?”

“Film. I really want to be a filmmaker.”

“That’s ambitious.”

“I think I can do it, though. I love the connection a person can make to the story and the emotion it can make you feel. How you can just get lost in this other world for a few hours as you watch, forgetting about any problems you may have because you just want the characters to solve theirs. Being able to create that feeling for people is all I want to do,” Harry said, not caring how pretentious he sounded. He swayed his hand back and forth through the water and Louis got back on his feet, floating opposite from Harry on the other side of the log. Louis watched him carefully, water still beaded on his face. The light from the flashlight lit up only one side of his face, but his expression was still readable. It was serious, yet inviting. Different from what Harry had seen most of the night.

“I think you could do it. You seem like a passionate person. All great artistic people are,” Louis told him, not dropping his gaze once.

“Thank you. And you’ll make a great teacher,” Harry replied slowly.

“Thanks.”

It wasn't hard to see where this was going now. The change in atmosphere around them was getting intense. He wanted this to happen, but he didn’t know Louis’ own intentions. He hardly knew anything about him, really.

The only sound they could hear around them was the swaying of the water, the quiet bugs chirping, and their own breathing. Louis reached his arms further across the log until they were overlapping over Harry’s. Harry didn’t even flinch.

It was like time slowed down when Louis finally leaned in. Harry fluttered his eyes closed as he felt Louis’ lips meet his, cold and chapped. His heart raced and his stomach was doing summersaults, but then it was over. Only lasting no more than a second.

When Harry opened his eyes again, Louis was gone.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. That was until he felt something touch his foot and noticed a figure moving through the water. Louis’ head emerged suddenly from the water on Harry’s side of the log, sending a splash of water around him and almost hitting Harry in the chin.

“What are you-” Harry started.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” before another word could be said, Louis was pulling him in again, a kiss much deeper and lasting much longer. It started out sloppy like most adolescent kisses, but they quickly found a pattern until their mouths were moving perfectly in sync with each other. He tasted like alcohol but Harry didn’t care because he was sure he did as well. As their legs tangled together underwater and Harry brushed his hands through Louis’ hair, neither wanting the moment to end. But minutes past and even their lips were getting too cold to stand the water much longer. They parted at the same time, but not from each other’s embrace just yet.

“Well that’s not how I thought this night would go,” Louis said, making Harry let out a laugh as he rested his forehead against Louis’.

“Me neither,” Harry admitted, still holding onto Louis’ arms.

They stayed like that for a few moments, but the water was becoming unbearable. Harry was almost at the point where he couldn’t even feel his toes,

“Hey,” Harry said again, his mouth curled into a smile, “I’ll race you back to the bonfire.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, expression mimicking that of Harry’s.

“You’re on.”

 ~

_Present Day._

It seems pretty ridiculous that a grown man would have to sneak out of his own apartment late in the evening, but that’s the exact scenario Harry finds himself in on a Tuesday night. Dressed in a black t-shirt and the same sweatpants he’d been wearing since he got off his weekend shift, Harry tiptoes past a sleeping Niall on the couch to reach his front door. He watches Niall cautiously as he slides a light grey jacket off its hanger and slips on his shoes, careful not to make a sound. It’s only 10pm, but Niall has to work early the next day and Harry is in need of some solitude. Well, as much as the small pub a few blocks down will allow.

Harry hasn’t been much of a drinker since the beginning of college. There is the odd social occasion where he can be found with a glass of champagne or having a pint with the guys, even though he’s no longer a fan of the taste of beer. Lately, however, he finds himself craving the feeling of numbness that came with over indulging in a few drinks. He decides on shots as he rounds a corner, walking briskly across the pavement. While tasting awful, they sure would get the job done. And quite fast as well.

Sitting on the end of the bar, he orders the cheapest shot they have, downing the warm brown liquid as soon as it’s poured. The back of his throat burns and his stomach is cursing at him, but his heart will thank him later. It will finally get the break his brain was holding back from it. He and his liver might not be on the best terms tomorrow, but they’ll get over it.

He orders two more shots and finishes them just as quickly. When he asks for his fourth, the bartender suggests he slows down and offers him a beer instead. Harry agrees even though he has yet to feel the effects of the alcohol. The bartender pulls a chilled mug out of the freezer and pours the contents of the bottle into it before placing it on the bar for him. Harry lifts the mug to his lips and take a long sip, refusing to let the bitter taste stop him.

“So what’s brought you here this late on a Tuesday?” The bartender asks, leaning the front of his hip against his work station.

 “It’s a long story. You really don’t want to know, believe me,” Harry says as he looks down at his drink, fingers tapping against the glass.

“Lady troubles?” He offers with a knowing (or unknowing) laugh.

“Not quite,” Harry sighs, “Man troubles, more like.”

“Ah, well, if you need a listener…” He motions to himself before walking to the other end of the bar to greet the old man who just walked in and take his order. Harry looks around and realizes that before the old man, he was the only one in the bar. He wasn’t surprised.

That reminds him of the reason he’s actually there. He grabs the mug and chugs slowly until there’s just a small bit of froth left at the bottom. He can’t help but wonder if _he’s_ taking this the same way. If he’s giving into the cliché of drowning his sorrows in an empty bar. Probably not, he decides. He’s got Ethan or whatever his name was. He couldn’t be bothered to remember. It wasn’t him though, and that’s what drew him to this.

The bartender approaches him again when he sees the empty mug and Harry looks at him with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“Who do you love?” He asks, not realizing right away that his words don’t make sense.

“What do you mean, mate?” The bartender says as he takes Harry’s mug away.

“Sorry, I don’t drink often. Doesn’t take much for me anymore, I guess,” He laughs. This is a rare occasion for him; to actually laugh without sarcasm or underlying feeling of guilt. As if he needs to feel guilty for being happy. He deserves to be happy. He _was_ happy. At least before…

“I meant like a girlfriend or-” Harry cuts himself off figuring the man gets the idea.

“Yeah, I have a girlfriend waiting for me at home,” he tells him with a small, yet proud smile.

“You hold on to her then,” Harry starts, pointing his index finger at the man, “Don’t let anything make her want to leave. Then one day you might find yourself sitting in a bar, alone in the middle of the week getting drunk to forget that she left and you let her. And now she’s off with some other guy and you’re all by yourself in that flat you bought together,” he’s gesturing more than normal for emphasis. Also because he’s pretty sure he’s drunk. “The fucking flat that contained all the memories you shared and belongings that you bought together. Because you were ready to start a life with her. Hell, you wanted to have a family and maybe get a house one day and even a dog. You’d grow old together and watch your kids go off and do amazing things while you finally got your well-deserved peace to just enjoy each other’s company. But that didn’t happen, did it? Because now I’m here and I could really use another goddamn drink.”

The bartender stares at him for a few moments. He’s looking at Harry’s folded hands on the counter and despite having spilled his feelings, he doesn’t look sad. He looks empty. Hollow.

“A long story, is it?” he says as he pulls out two shot glasses this time, pouring one for each of them. They raise their glasses, not quite sure what they’re toasting to, and down them at the same time.

~

_December, 2013_

Walking hand in hand, Harry and Louis watched as Niall danced around the streets in a Santa hat in front of them. There were six of them walking home from dinner to go see Harry and Louis’ new flat. Usually it would just be them with Liam and Sophia, but Niall and Zayn decided to tag along for couples night so they could see the new place. They’d been milking the ‘fake couple’ joke all night long. Niall even tried to feed Zayn a forkful of fettuccini and Zayn ended up shoving it back in his face so the pasta sauce would smear over it. You really couldn’t take them anywhere.

From the sidewalk, Zayn ran up to join Niall in a twirl while they belted the words to _White Christmas_. Liam and Sophia were a few steps ahead of Harry and Louis, arms fully wrapped around each other and laughing at the spectacle going on in front of them. Harry always thought they were perfect together. He’d definitely be attending their wedding one day.

“Liam, come dance with me!” Zayn shouted at them, not caring about the people in the houses surrounding them.

“I’m coming!” Liam said, letting go of Sophia and rushing off the join the fun.

Harry took a deep breath of the crisp winter air and glanced around at the Christmas lights surrounding them. Colours full of red, green, white, and the odd blue or pink stringed across rooftops and around trees. Some even go as far as to set up plastic reindeer or Santas on their snowed-over lawns or build a snowman to wave at people passing by. When Louis catches his eye, Harry looks at him instead, their hands laced together between two layers of mittens. As his eyes crinkle through a grin, he wonders every day how he got so lucky to have him.

He leans down to kiss him softly. “I love you,” Harry tells him for no reason except that he wants to remind him.

“I love you too,” He replies quietly, grin getting wider- if that was even possible.

Harry feels an arm hook through his that’s only occupied by a pocket. Sophia is looking at them both with a smirk like she knows something they don’t.

“Look at those guys,” she laughs as they watch Niall and Zayn chase Liam down with chunks of snow in their hands.

“You aren’t going to stop them from attacking your man?” Harry half jokes.

“Nah, he probably deserves it anyway,” she giggles before looking back at the two of them. “So you must be so excited about the new flat, finally living together and all.”

She was right about the ‘finally’ part. They had been together for four years and only decided now would be a good time to move in together. Only having started dating at 16 and 18 however, they had plenty of time.

“We really are. It’ll be nice to wake up in the same bed every morning and make meals together and all those domestic-type things.”

“You mean, I’ll be cooking and you’ll pretend to help while you steal food off the cutting board?” Harry corrected, looking smug.

“Fair enough,” Louis agreed and Harry nudged him lightly.

The three walked in a line, connected, as they watched Niall and Zayn stuff snow into the back of Liam’s jacket who let out a scream at the cold feeling. Niall hollered a laugh while a giggly Zayn tried to yank the jacket right off of Liam. These were three, sober, twenty-year-old men.

“You know,” Sophia started again, “I’ve never seen anyone look more in love and perfect for each other than you two. Even Liam and I; I’m sure he’s it for me, but you guys have something really special.”

“Thank you,” Louis said first with a smile, Harry nodding in agreement.

“Have you guys thought of, you know, tying the knot?” She asked, but before either of them could respond, they were interrupted by Niall’s yelling. The three of them were now walking in their own huddled line ahead of them, Liam in the middle with his arms over the other boys’ shoulders.

“Isn’t that it?” Niall asked, pointing at a brown building with a large set of stairs leading up to the entrance. Zayn broke the huddle first to run up the stairs, the other two following close behind and leaving footprints on the freshly fallen snow.

“And this,” Harry said to Sophia as the motioned towards the building then to Louis, “Is our new home.”

~

_Present Day._

When Harry wakes up the next morning from his impromptu bar trip, Niall is looking down at him with confusion on his face. Harry just groans and pulls his blanket up higher over his head, shielding himself both from Niall and the bright light he seemed to bring with him when he entered the room.

“Since when do you drink? You reek like booze,” Niall points out as he walks to the other side of the room to open the window and let some air in.

“Since yesterday,” Harry grumbles in response.

“Hungover isn’t that great of a look on you.”

“And sarcasm is way last season,” Harry retorts, as he sits up slightly, letting the blankets fall to the bottom of his bare torso. Niall moves to sit on the other side of the bed, crossing his legs and leaning his back against the headboard. Harry opens his mouth to speak again, but closes it just as fast as he eyes the spot Niall is sitting in.

“What?” Niall raises his brow.

“You’re in, uh…” He trails off, but Niall catches on easily.

“It’s not like he’s coming back for it,” Niall speaks without thinking. Harry’s eyes flicker up into a glare. “No, I-I didn’t mean,” he stutters.

“It’s fine. You’re right. It’s fine,” Harry repeats and Niall watches his movements, treading carefully now.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I know this is hard enough without me being an ass,” he nudges Harry’s shoulder with his knuckles. Harry brings his own hand up to touch the spot, as if Niall had actually hurt him.

“It’s alright. And thank you. For staying with me, I mean. I know I put up a fight, but it really was getting lonely here.”

“You’re welcome, mate. You really should think about getting a different place, though. If you want, you could even stay with me for a bit. Come back to your old room,” Niall offers.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry smiles weakly, knowing he’s nowhere near ready to give up this place yet. This is his home. This is _their_ home.

“Sophia wanted to know about Liam’s party and whether or not you’re coming so she can confirm the guest list. I really think you should. Liam would want you there,” Niall tells him slowly.

Harry rubs his eyes and throws the blanket off of himself, reaching down for the sweatpants he took off before climbing in the night before.

“Are you going to give me a choice?” He asks.

“Of course. But be advised that if you don’t go, I’m going to rub it in your face about how great of a time you missed out on. Plus, since you decided you’re a big drinker now, we can get proper smashed!” Niall says enthusiastically.

“I think last night was enough for me for the next little while,” Harry decides, “but I guess you can tell Sophia I’ll be there.”

“Good choice!” Niall cheers, standing up to pat him on the back. He leaves moments later with a claim that he’ll make them dinner. Harry doesn’t realize he’d slept until 5pm until he glances at the clock beside his bed. Not only that, but he didn’t wake up once.

~

_October, 2014._

A lazy night-in was not a rare occurrence for Louis and Harry as time passed in their new flat. It had been about a year now and they were quite set in their routine. Harry had just recently graduated from his film studies program in Uni, but was working as the assistant manager at a high-end clothing store for now. Just until he could have a bit more money saved and pursue the career he wanted. Louis was starting his second year coaching a school’s footie team and teaching gym He was in love with his career and his boyfriend and this life they created together. It was perfect.

At the beginning, it wasn’t hard to get used to waking up wrapped in each other’s arms every morning. To sit in the living room and attempt to put together the furniture they bought together. Harry following the instructions, but Louis claiming he had a better way to go about it. That was before the chair he’d finished building fell to pieces as soon as weight was applied. The times they attempted cooking a meal together would often turn into blowjobs against the counter or a quick fuck on the kitchen floor. It was the honeymoon stage for them, but neither even had a ring on their finger.

This particular night, they were curled together in the blankets of their unmade bed as the sun had long set outside the window, moonlight shining in now. The lights were dimmed, only bright enough so they could see each other. With a marker in hand, Harry had Louis’ arm held down on the comforter as they laid on their stomachs. His arm pit was rested over Harry’s shoulder as Harry drew patterns in between his tattoos. Louis had his keyboard in front of them, pressing down on the keys with his unoccupied hand and making up his own melodies.

“I like this one the best,” Louis said, tapping his finger on the poorly drawn guitar Harry scribbled beside his dagger tattoo. Besides Harry’s attempt at a lotus flower, that was the only distinguishable drawing he’d made.

“Yeah? This is my favourite tattoo of yours,” Harry told him as he brushed his thumb across the dagger.

“Is it?” Louis’ asked in a higher pitched voice than usual.

“I think so. I like the compass too,” he grinned smugly as he turned to look at the ship on his own arm. Louis began to sense a pattern.

“I think you might be a little biased, love,” he pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple.

“Maybe a bit. There, what do you think of this?” Harry moved his hands out of the way to let Louis take a look at the ladybug sketched onto his skin.

“Well, I’m glad it isn’t permanent,” Louis said, laughing at his own comment as Harry lightly shoved his shoulder, dimple poking into his cheek since he couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Good thing I didn’t decide to do this with my tattoo gun, then. You know, I can still get it if you want,” Harry retorted, making Louis pull his arm away.

“Thanks, but I don’t need the word ‘big’ written on my big toe as well.”

Louis rolled onto his back and Harry joined him happily, careful not to knock the keyboard off the bed. He folded his arms over Louis’ chest and rested his chin over them. They were both still in their underwear, not having been bothered to get dressed all day. Louis gazed lovingly down at the other boy, his fingers lacing through Harry’s curls as he grabs the remote to hit play on the stereo. Louis wasn’t sure of the words to the song that began to play, but he could feel the vibration from Harry’s throat as he hummed along.

“This is my favourite part of the day, you know,” Louis told him as he broke the peaceful silence.

“Why’s that?” Harry brought his hand up to brush his fingers across Louis’ bare skin. No reason other than just to feel its warmth. He looked at the words ‘ _forget me not’_ freshly tattooed on his bicep. It was from a song, Louis had told him. He liked the way those particular words sounded when he first heard it. So when Zayn asked him to come with him to the parlour a few days ago, Louis decided on impulse that he wanted the lyric on his body. It was written in cursive and all small letters. In the song, it sounded like a plea. This made it seem more like a promise.

“Because we get to just do this. Enjoy each other’s company without an outside care bothering us. It’s just you and me in the best way.” his hand was cupping Harry’s cheek now, his arm not containing the drawings tucked behind his own head to prop his neck up.

“I love you,” Harry told him.

“I love you too,” Louis replied, bringing Harry closer so their mouths could meet for a soft peck.

Harry sat up for a moment so he was straddling Louis’ waist, an excited look in his eyes. Louis rested his hands over Harry’s thighs as he reached across the mattress to retrieve his marker.

“I have one more thing to draw,” Harry declared as he took Louis’ left arm and pushed it back against the duvet, leaning over him to reach. He drew the letters of what he was planning big and bold for Louis to see. The smile not leaving his face as he did so.

“Bloody hell, H, you planning on colouring in my whole arm?” Louis complained, but it just made Harry giggle.

“Hold still,” He demanded as he finished off the last letters, dotting the question mark at the end, “There, done.”

Harry capped the marker and sat back up to let Louis examine his arm. He held his wrist in his hand as he read it, eyes widening and mouth forming in the shape of an ‘O’. Scribbled in big letters on Louis’ arm was the question “Marry me?”

Before saying a word, Louis grabbed Harry’s face in his hands and pulled him down into a kiss. Deep and passionate and full of love. He knew this kiss was answer enough, but he wanted to hear the word for himself.

“So what do you say?” Harry asked, words mumbled by Louis’ mouth pressed to his. Louis’ broke away for a moment to throw his head back in a laugh before looking Harry right in his eyes. Both of their hearts were racing with excitement.

“Yes, of course, yes!” he exclaimed before capturing Harry’s lips once again.

~

_Present Day._

The drive to the hotel for Liam’s birthday party seems never ending. It’s a surprise party, Harry and Niall had been told, but they’re showing up so late that they will have long missed the surprise. They had spent a good hour, after the party had started, sitting on the couch and arguing about whether Harry would actually go.

“He’s one of your best friends. You can’t just skip out on the party when you said you’d be there,” Niall claimed, “You need to get out of the house, Harry, you’re going to drive yourself stir crazy.”

“You don’t think I know that? After the other day, I just don’t know if I can see _him_ again,” Harry rubbed his wrists over his eyes.

“He’s not Voldemort, you can say his fucking name.” Niall wasn’t good at hiding his frustrations. It was something Harry had gotten used to long ago. He was also never good at consoling people either, but he was blunt, and that’s what Harry needed. He needed someone around who would kick his ass if he was too caught up in feeling sorry for himself. Which happened to be all the time at this point.

Now, they are sat in the car, Niall driving like usual, and just about to turn into the car park. They haven’t said a word to each other since they got in the car, Harry still angry at Niall for forcing him out of the house. When Niall turns the car off, he finally turns to Harry to speak.

“You ready to go in?” He asks.

“No,” Harry replies simply.

“You know, you used to be like a ball of happiness,” Niall says as he opens his door to step out.

“I know,” Harry sighs, not quite loud enough for him to hear.

The party is in full force when they step into the banquet hall. A DJ is at one end of the room blasting Top 40 Hits while the bar takes up the entire length of the wall across from it. On the bar side, there are plenty of tables cluttered with people snacking on the buffet of food. The DJ side is an open floor where most people are dancing and socializing. Harry wasn’t even aware Liam knew this many people, let alone wanted to invite them all to a party. Then again, Sophia had quite the large social group so there was a good chance she compiled the biggest guest list she could from her friends as well. She also came from a wealthy family and was making quite the name for herself in the fashion world, so she spared no expense.

“Let’s get you a drink then go find the birthday boy,” Niall pats him on the back and leads him towards the bar. He orders them each a pint and demands Harry finish his before they finished greeting Liam.

When they find him surrounded by a crowd at one of the tables, Liam goes for Harry first.

“Hey man, glad you made it,” he told him as he wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Harry returned it with a tight smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Harry can feel Niall’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head before he adds on a “Happy Birthday!”

Harry goes through the usual “how are you?” “I’ve been better,” since he was always bad at hiding his emotions so figured he might as well tell the truth. Liam promises him that they’ll get together in the next week, just them, so they can have a good heart-to-heart. He isn’t exactly looking forward to it, but Liam is a great friend- had been since primary school. There would never be a time when Harry is ungrateful for him taking the time to help Harry pick up his broken pieces.

The next to approach their group is Zayn and as they exchange hugs and greetings, Harry wonders if he should go off and find some different people to hang out with until the night is over. Mostly out of fear that _he_ \- er, Louis- would stop by their table as well.

 _He’s not Voldemort_ , Harry reminds himself of Niall’s comment as he chugs the rest of his beer. He might be able to get used to this whole drinking thing again.

“I’m just going to grab another drink, anyone want anything?” Harry asks, but they all shake their heads. Niall, however, has to express his disbelief that Harry finished a drink before he was even halfway done. He even went as far as to tell him he was proud, earning a laugh from the group as Harry walked off.

Harry was stood at the bar, waiting for his beer to be poured and not paying attention to his immediate surroundings. It wasn’t until he finally looked down, he realized who was seated at the stool next to him. They both turned to face each other at the same time, recognizing each other almost immediately.

“Hello,” Louis says first after five long seconds of each other staring, just trying to figure out what to make of this encounter.

“Hi.”

~

_May, 2015._

“Hi,” was the first word Harry heard Louis say when he walked through the front door late on a Thursday night.

“Hey,” Harry called back, eyes not leaving the laptop he was typing on. He heard keys jingling as they were being tossed into the bowl by the entrance and shuffling while Louis rid himself of his jacket and shoes. It wasn’t until the sound of Louis’ sock feet pounding against the floor as he walked down the hallway did he finally look up.

“Sorry I was so late. When I stopped to pick up the stuff for the invitations, I ran into an old mate at the store so we went for a pint. I guess we lost track of time,” Louis explained as he peeked under the tin-foiled plate of leftovers Harry left on the counter for him.

“We were supposed to finish up the invitations tonight,” Harry muttered with his elbow on the table and his hand propping up his chin.

“I know and I’m really sorry, Harry. We’ll do it tomorrow, I promise,” Louis said with a mouthful of cold mashed potatoes. Harry eyed him up and down.

“Did you pick up the envelopes and card paper at least?” he watched Louis’ expression turn to deer-in-the-headlights panic.

“I swear I’ll bring them home tomorrow…” he started as he took his plate to the dining room table and sat perpendicular to him. Of course he forgot.

Louis had hardly done anything for the wedding except for when Harry would ask for an opinion or idea. It had been like this for a while, now. Louis stressed about work and Harry stressed about their future together. It was getting difficult now. Their love was not quite burning as strong as the wildfire it once was. Harry wondered if it would be hard to reignite again.

“Why do I feel like you aren’t quite as excited about this wedding as I am?” Harry asked, his eyelids low with drowsiness.

“How could you think that,” Louis put his fork down, face stern. “I can’t wait for the wedding. I can’t wait for us to _be_ married. You’re just better at the planning than I am and I’ve been so busy with work- I’ll do better, okay?” Harry didn’t meet his gaze, but he still nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good. What are you working on there anyway?” he asked as he resumed trying to cut the piece of ham with his fork.

“Just that new screenplay I started a few days ago,” Harry’s eyes caught a typo and he moved to fix it.

“Yeah? What’s it about?” Louis hummed.

“I told you about it over dinner last night,” Harry scrunched his eyebrows together, “You don’t remember?”

Louis parted his lips slightly, eyes shooting down and to the left. He didn’t remember.

“Yeah. No- of course I do. It sounded great.”

Harry had enough. He was tired and grumpy and in no mood to argue, so he just accepted it.

Pushing out his chair, Harry hit save and closed his laptop, tucking it under his arm as he stood up. Louis shot him a confused look.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just tired, Lou, I need to go to bed,” he told him flatly as he started down the hall to their bedroom. As he passed it, he couldn’t help but glance to the spare room, only filled with a few boxes and extra furniture and Louis’ keyboard, with sad eyes. “This could make a great nursery one day,” he remembered telling Louis when they had first toured the flat.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute. Just let me finish up,” he heard Louis say, but didn’t look up, just continued right to their room. He was asleep before he even heard Louis walk in.

~

_Present._

“I thought I’d run onto you here,” Louis continues as the bartender places Harry’s drink in front of him.

“I wasn’t going to come, but it’s for Liam and Niall wouldn’t exactly take no for an answer,” Harry shrugs, finding it difficult to actually look at him.

“Why weren’t you going to come?” Louis asks and Harry almost forgets who he’s talking to. Right now, he isn’t really sure of the words coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he decides, sipping on the drink. The taste always makes him cringe at the first sip and he wonders if he should have ordered something like rum and coke so at least it would go down easier.

“You don’t drink,” Louis says bluntly, like it’s a fact, when his own drink arrives. It’s a brown liquid like the one Harry remembered taking shots of in the bar alone, except there’s a few ice cubes floating around in the glass with it.

“I’ve been trying it out.” He doesn’t say why.

“I remember you used to be such a funny drunk when we were younger. Everyone was your best friend, once you’d had a few. You’d throw your hands around everyone and tell them how great they were and how much you loved them. Sometimes even more if no one stopped you. Worried me, sometimes,” Louis speaks with a fond look on his face and Harry finds himself grinning.

“Yeah, the total opposite of you. You’d just get angry, but then make it into a joke and laugh at things that didn’t even make sense. The worst is when you’d pick fights with guys twice your size then somehow talk your way out of it.”

They’re both sitting on the barstools now. Louis has his body turned completely towards Harry whose legs are tucked under the counter.

“Do you remember when Niall dragged us clubbing with a bunch of his friends a little after I turned 18 and you somehow ended up befriending the DJ and taking over the club?” Harry asks.

“Hey, DJ Tommo was a hit!” Louis claims and now they’re laughing together and Harry misses this so much.

“I don’t think I’d ever been more confused than when I heard your voice hollering over the speakers that night.” Louis’ eyes crinkle taking Harry back to every moment he’s seen that face before.

“Yeah, we had quite the time, didn’t we?”

“That we did,” and suddenly he feels a wave of sadness because they’re speaking in past tense.

As the conversation faded, Harry wondered what Louis could be thinking about. If he was reminiscing to himself or coming up with an excuse to leave. Anything that would get him away from Harry because that’s what he wanted all along. _Time for himself._ Except this was the longest conversation they’d had since the night everything ended and Harry didn’t want it to be over yet.

“At the grocery store the other day,” Louis started and Harry’s eyes drifted back to him, “I’m sorry I made that so uncomfortable. When I saw you, I should’ve just left you alone.”

“No, it’s fine,” Harry sighs, “I was just surprised is all; and you with that other guy…”

“Eli? Harry, he’s just my new flatmate. We’ve become good friends. We were picking up some groceries.”

“Oh,” he says and suddenly he feels relieved, but he shouldn’t because they aren’t together anymore and Louis can see whoever he wants. The thought stings, but it’s true. “I thought you were staying with Zayn?”

“I can’t live on a couch forever.”

It’s then Harry realizes how permanent this is. Louis’ not his anymore and he’s not coming back and it’s so fucking hard to process when he’s right in front of him. He’s less than an arm’s length away and Harry just wants to pull his face in closer and press their lips together. To feel his warmth as their bodies move against each other one more time. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Not with yelling and screaming and slamming doors and broken glass. Not with false declarations of how wrong they are for each other. It was supposed to be ‘till death do they part, but maybe not because they didn’t even get the chance to make that promise.         

“I miss you,” Harry says, but he should’ve said anything else, really.

Instead of replying, Louis just looks at him with a mischievous grin, “Dance with me.”

The rest of the night turns to a messy blur of alcohol and regret.

It’s like a night club when the late hours of the night turn to early morning and the energy of the party isn’t even close to fading out. The room is spinning and they’re laughing and hanging off of each other and dancing closer than they felt in months. Every few minutes, taking a break to “hydrate” or really just get another drink. Neither will remember a drunken word that was spoken when they wake up the next morning. They don’t exactly want to know.

“Hey,” Louis slurs into Harry’s ear, his hand cradling the back of his neck and Harry’s pulling him closer by his waist, “Maybe we should get a room for the night? I mean, neither of us is in any state to drive and cabs can get expensive.”

He can feel Louis’ lips curl into a smile as he catches onto the implication.

“Yeah, I _really_ don’t think I can drive,” Harry drawls, forgetting the fact that he wasn't the one who drove anyway, while Louis laughs into his chest.

Taking his hand, Louis drags him through the crowd of people and towards the door and Harry is at the point where he’s definitely lost all common sense. When they pass the bar again, Niall is chatting up a short blonde girl and Harry catches his eye. He’s laughing at the conversation, but his expression hardens when he sees them. He scowls and almost moves to stop them, but Harry laughs. He has no idea why, but he just _laughs_ at him. So Niall doesn’t move. He just stares in confusion as they leave together.

The room they get is on the fifth floor and Harry hardly even has the chance to close the door before he’s being pinned against the wall. Louis presses their lips together hungrily and Harry’s still a little dizzy even though his eyes are closed. It’s rough and his lips are dry and his mouth is tinged with the taste of alcohol, but the tightening of Harry’s pants is telling him not to stop. He’s being pulled in by the shirt fabric around his middle and Louis lets out a soft, pleading moan against his mouth. His hands are trailing the skin around Louis’ hips before they even get the chance to turn the light in the room on.

Louis fingers play with the buttons on Harry’s shirt, fighting to get each one open. He pulls back the material down his arms so his shoulders are exposed and moves to kiss along Harry’s jawline. Harry tilts his neck up to allow easier access and Louis starts moving down, his hands already working at the buckle on his pants.

At this point, Harry has an angel and the devil on his shoulders, trying to reason the pros and cons of what he’s about to do. _You’re already finished with him. Stop this before it starts._ The angel begs but the devil seems to side with lust when Louis is suddenly on his knees and Harry feels him being taken into his mouth. He moves back and forth slowly at first and Harry throws his head back in the unexpected pleasure. His fist is already bunched loosely into Louis’ hair as he takes him all the way to the back of his throat. A stifled moan escapes before Harry can stop it, but Louis releases him once he’s fully hard.

“Let me fuck you,” Louis whispers when he’s back on his feet. Harry’s breathe hitches at the thought and he immediately feels more sober than he has all night.

Back when he was stumbling into the elevator with the man he once thought he was going to marry hanging off him, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Hadn’t considered if he really wanted this. If the consequences would weigh heavy on him after he spent so long trying to get over him. Now, with the love of his life standing in front of him, he can’t bring himself to say no. To not give into the selfishness of having him just one more night. As if that’s all that is needed to mend their relationship and the endless list of problems that came with it. A drunken night of sloppy sex will do anything but bring them back together. Their love had once burned like a wildfire, but the flames died out long ago and Harry is still sitting in the ashes, not quite ready yet to sweep them up.

Making his decision, he pushes Louis so they’re off the wall and moving towards the bed. They stumble across the room until Harry lands on his back on one of the two queen sized beds. They break the kiss only long enough to crawl back towards the pillows. Louis stops once he’s straddling him and arches his back so he’s hovered above him, cupping Harry’s face in his hands. He pulls away only to strip himself of his own shirt, Harry watching with wild eyes as he sheds away the rest of his.

From in his pocket, Harry can feel the vibrating of his phone and Louis must notice it too because he’s moving his leg out of the way do dig into Harry’s jeans looking for it. With smirk and one hand still rested on the other boy’s chest, he answers the call without checking the ID.

“Whoever this is, Harry is a little busy right now. You see, I’m about to-” Louis starts but Harry is snatching the phone out of his hand before he can finish his sentence. They both know he would have, too.

Harry sees Niall’s name flash across the screen, probably letting him know that he’s about to leave without him, before he hangs up the call and drops his phone onto the carpeted floor.

Louis is cackling when he pulls him back into a kiss and soon there is nothing but a thin layer of sweat between their bodies.

~

_July, 2015._

It was a Sunday evening when they both realized it. Realized the hopelessness that had been hovering around their flat for the last few months. The whispering hints that they had nothing left for each other had turned to screams, demanding that they just let each other go. Surrender to the end that they could see coming from miles away. This used to be their favourite day, Sunday. The day they would do nothing but relax and enjoy each other’s company. Harry proposed on a Sunday. That was almost a year ago at this point.

They sat on opposite couches in the living room in silence, reality show re-runs playing in the background. Louis was invested in his phone as he laid with his legs taking up the entire couch and Harry sat flipping through a flyer to make a grocery list for the week.

“Do you feel like having spaghetti tomorrow night?” Harry looked up at him.

“Whatever you want,” Louis mumbled, mind clearly somewhere else.

“You know, my mum called today about the centre pieces and she had some really great ideas she put together. She said she could stop by tomorrow for us to take a look.”

“Yeah?” Harry narrowed his eyes while Louis typed out a text.

“Louis, what did I just say?” He tried again.

“Huh?” Louis turned his head so it was hanging off the couch a bit.

“Can we have a conversation where I actually have your attention?” Harry demanded, voice coming off harsher than he intended. Louis’ eyebrows were pulled together when he sat up in the centre of the couch.

“What’d you mean?” He asked, cautiously.

“It’s just-” Harry tried to speak calmly, but the anger is pulling at the back of his neck, “for fuck’s sake Louis, I do everything around here! It’s like you don’t care about anything that happens inside this house!”

“How could you say that? How could you think I don’t care?” Louis was leaning forward now and Harry didn’t know how to respond. He knew no matter what he did at this point, the result wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You’re never home anymore, Louis, and when you are either I’m at work or you just ignore me. We hardly even see each other. I want to make this work, but I can’t do it by myself. You need to want it, too.”

“You don’t think I do? What about you? You just push me away, Harry, you never tell me of something is wrong. And as for our opposite work schedules: what makes that my fault? I’m a teacher, Harry, I can’t change the schedule. All you do is fold clothes all day!” Louis was yelling at this point and Harry was at a loss for words.

“Fuck you, Louis,” He said because that was the only thought that came to mind.

Grabbing his glass off the table in front of him, Harry walked towards the kitchen with the intention to both put the glass in the dishwasher and distance himself from Louis before he did or said something he would regret.

"Yeah, walk away. That'll definitely solve this," Louis called after him, but Harry ignored it. He passed by the dining room table, glancing at the finished wedding invitations sitting in a neat pile, ready to be sent. He wasn’t even sure Louis looked at them yet.

Setting the glass down on the counter, Harry leaned against it to steady himself. He held his face in one hand, trying to hold back the wild mix of emotions he was feeling. Instead, it all came out at once in one easy swing that sent the glass smashing to the floor.

“What was that?” Louis called from the other room, he voice getting louder as he neared the kitchen.

“Just leave me alone. I’ll deal with it,” Harry didn’t even look at the mess of glass on the ground when Louis was already searching for the broom and dust pan in the closet.

Without turning to actually face him, Harry watched as Louis squatted down to pick up the bigger pieces to throw away and sweep the tiny shards. He studied each movement carefully. The wrinkles in his forehead from anger and frustration. The way his hands moved around so carefully and delicately so he wouldn’t cut himself. How the bright youthfulness of his eyes had faded to a dark blue. He thought back to when he used to see those eyes daily. Back when their love was new and there was so much to learn about each other. So many experiences for them to have. When they still looked at each other with that innocent fondness that had disappeared somewhere along the line.

“Come here,” Harry spoke quietly as he reached forward for Louis’ hands. He stood up without hesitation and Harry guided him away from the glass. “Do you even still want to get married?” He asked softly and Louis looked at him like he’d just shot someone.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Louis shook his head and Harry took a step back.

“What the hell do you want me to think then? You’ve done nothing for this fucking wedding. It’s like you don’t even want it to happen.” Harry was screaming now because was frustrated and he hated this. He hated what they had become and he’d do anything to go back and change something. Then again, maybe there wasn’t anything he could’ve changed.

“When I was fifteen, the first wedding I attended was my aunt's,” Louis began, "When they were standing at the alter, about to say 'I do', my aunt paused. In an attempt to make light of the situation, her fiance joked 'Well don't hesitate!' and their family and friends let out an uncomfortable laugh. Her nervousness in the moment made her say 'I do' and they were married. For about two years, that is. Until she realized that they had problems that were too difficult to be solved." 

Harry stopped breathing because that was not what he was expecting. He was expecting a fight. He _wanted_ a fight just to prove that maybe there was something still there, deep down, that was worth the fight. That hope was now shattered like the glass pieces that surrounded them.

“How do you know that will be us? We can work out the problems,” Harry said in a rush.

“I know we’ve been drifting apart lately. I know we never see each other anymore, but we’re such different people now then we were when we were kids. So maybe this isn't right. Maybe the problems can't be solved.”

There wasn’t a moment in his life that Harry wanted to be wrong more. He felt sick like he could throw up any minute. But Louis was still holding his hand and standing so lose while he was in the middle of breaking his heart.

“So, what, that’s it then?” He swallows hard because the words taste sour in his mouth.

“I wish it didn’t have to be.”

It was so incomplete. They never talked about why, but they both knew that it just felt wrong. They were holding on to something that wasn’t there and it was time to let go. At this point, there was no going back. It was all out in the open and they were no longer hiding feelings.

“I think I’m going to see if I can stay with one of the guys for a few days. Give us some time apart to think. Then we can make a decision, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, eyes falling to the ground. Louis put one hand behind his neck and pulled him closer to leave a lingering peck on his forehead before disappearing upstairs to pack a suitcase.

Harry didn’t wait for him by the door. He didn’t say goodbye back before he heard it slam. He didn’t cry until he was lying in bed alone and couldn’t bare the silence.

~

_Present._

The next morning, Harry wakes up in his own bed. He has vague memories of getting into the back of a cab around 4am and stumbling back home in the darkness. It was a true walk of shame.

Harry’s whole body aches when he finally gets around to crawling out of bed, raising his arms to stretch his back as he stands up. He’s still dressed in the clothes from last night’s party and his hair is a tangled mess. The bed is still made as he hadn’t even bothered to get under the blankets when he passed out.

Dragging himself towards the bathroom, Harry tries showering away the shame and regret he’s still feeling from the night before. Being with Louis again is all he used to think he wanted, but not like this. Nothing has been fixed from one night together again. That fight still happened. They still aren’t right for each other. Their relationship is still hopeless. Nothing has changed.

He wonders if Louis is feeling the same way. If it’s eating away at his insides as well.

“You’re home,” Niall states when he catches him walking towards the living room. He’s watching a news channel on TV with a mug of coffee between his hands.

Harry stops and scans his surroundings mockingly, “Whoa, you’re right, I am!” he exclaims sarcastically.

“What time did you get in?” he asks instead.

“Early this morning,” Harry pulls a mug out of a cupboard in the kitchen and reaches for the half empty coffee pot. “Did you enjoy the party?” he tacks on at the end.

“Probably not as much as you did.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Harry, mate, I saw you guys leave together. When I called to tell you to get your ass down to the car so we could go, Louis answered and, uh, I got the idea,” he summarizes and now shame and regret meet embarrassment as well.

“Well, it was mistake, I’ll tell you that,” Harry sighs, not sure how much truth that statement holds.

“Are you going to tell _him_ that?”

“He’s not Voldemort,” Harry repeats Niall’s comment from earlier, mockingly.

“If you guys get back together,” he continues, ignoring the previous statement, “I’ll be more than happy for you, but remember why it didn’t work in the first place.”

Harry takes a small sip of his coffee when Niall turns back to face the TV. He needs to talk to Louis. He needs some kind of explanation or closure. Something that can help him figure out how to move on. He gets an idea.

“Hey Ni, is that room still available?”

It’s not for another five days that Harry finally calls Louis. He had one missed call from him on the Monday following the party, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer it. That conversation was something he still had to prepare for.

He’s sitting at the dining room table while the phone rings in his hands. Niall watches him carefully from the kitchen as he stirs the chili on the stove. He offered Harry privacy before he started dialing, but Harry promised the phone call would be quick anyway.

“Hello?” Louis speaks up after the fourth ring, taking Harry a bit by surprise since he was sure he was going to go to voicemail by then.

“Hey, you alright?” he starts off politely.

“Just give me a sec. I’ll head to another room.” Harry figures he must be around Eli or his friends, but doesn’t bother to tell him the call won’t be worth leaving the room.

He hears a door closing through the tiny speaker before Louis says anything else.

“I’ve been wanting to hear from you,” Louis tells him and he can already feel his chest tightening.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to call you back, but-”

“No, I understand,” and there’s silence before Harry realizes he has a reason for calling.

“Louis, I’m-”

“Do you want talk about-” They speak at the same time, but Louis mutters a quick “go ahead.”

“Louis, I’m moving out of the flat. I’m going to take Niall’s spare room for a while. I just thought you should know.” Harry’s pinching mindlessly at his bottom lip when he doesn’t answer right away.

“Oh,” is all he says, in a higher pitched tone.

“I know you still have a lot of your stuff here, so I took Saturday off to pack and you’re more than welcome to stop by and pick up whatever you want to take. It’ll just be me so if you want to talk…”

“Yeah, um,” Louis pauses long enough to take a deep breath and regain his thoughts, “alright, that’s good.”

“You can stop by any time after five, if that works for you.”

“Sure.”

A few seconds pass before either of them speak again. Harry can hear the faint sounds of Louis’ breath on the other end as he tries to figure out a way to end the call.

“So I’ll see you Saturday then?”

“Yeah. Oh, and Harry? It’s been really nice, like, talking again,” he stumbles a bit on his words before they all escape.

“You too,” Harry replies without hesitation, “bye, Louis.”

Five days was far too much time for Harry to think. Niall had gone back his own place, enjoying his last few days alone before Harry moved back in.

Getting rid of the apartment was the best and most difficult decision Harry had to make. It held a wide mixture of memories, both good and bad, but all still painful to look back on. When Saturday finally comes around, Harry is still at a loss of what he is actually going to say. His feelings are a wild mess that he can’t seem to sort, no matter how many more nights he stayed up thinking about it. He just has to see him, he decides. Once he hears what Louis had to say and can study his expressions, then he will know.

At this point, the apartment is covered in boxes. The kitchen is already completely packed as well as a few non-essentials, but Harry isn’t even close to being finished with packing. The fact that he had to be out of the place in two days didn’t help with the stress.

It’s 7:08PM when the knock on the door finally comes.

As he stood up from the couch to answer the door, Harry could feel his stomach flip upside down. It’s been years since the thought of being around Louis made him nervous, just not in the same way. He used to feel excited and flustered and giddy. Now, it’s a mixture of emptiness and pain. Mostly, he’s filled with the anxiety of what’s to come from this conversation. Where they would stand when it ended. As of right now, it was all up in the air.

Louis is grinning with his lips tightened when Harry opens the door. He’s known Louis long enough to know that’s the expression he makes when he’s trying to hide how he really feels. He hates that they’re going through this. He just wants the aura of sadness to disappear.

“You could’ve used your key, you know,” Harry says as he invites Louis in, as if he was a guest in Harry’s flat.

“I, uh, didn’t have it,” Louis says as he fixes his fringe and glances around. “So you really are moving then, are you?”

“Yeah, I figured it was about time. Do you want a drink? I think I have a bottle of wine in the fridge. I won’t have to bring it in the move if we drink it,” Harry offers, not thinking of what happened the last time they had drinks together.

“Sure, why not?” Louis follows him to the kitchen, eyes catching on the TV as they pass the living room. “Oh, you’re watching the footie match? I had it on just before I left, but we’re so far behind I figured it wasn’t worth watching just to see the loss.”

“Yeah, with the great season they had last year it's quite the disappointing turn around,” Harry adds, pouring the wine into two glass cups since he already had the wine glasses packed away.

“D’ya think they’ll make it to the finals, though?”

“Unless they break this losing streak, I don't think so.”

They stand in silence for a few moments, sipping at their drinks and watching the game play in the background. Harry glances at Louis out of the corner of his eye. He’s standing calm, one hand in the pocket of his sweatpants and his hair covered by a grey beanie. It doesn’t take longer than a second for Harry to recognize it as his own from years ago.

“Oh, I put some extra stuff a box over here that I thought you might want,” Harry broke the silence, motioning toward the box sitting on the dining room table.

Louis peered into the box when they walked over, “this is our whole CD collection,” he states, “you don’t want any of these?”

“It kind of just takes up space. I have it all on my phone and a few vinyls anyway,” he shrugs.

“Ah, CDs too mainstream for you, then?” Louis jokes and Harry gives a hint of a laugh.

“Something like that.”

Harry watches Louis rifle through the box, looking closely at each cover. He stops at an old copy of the album How to Save a Life by The Fray and shows it to Harry.

“You still have this? I gave it to you when we first met,” he opens the case to look at the disc.

“I keep everything you give me,” Harry says quietly and Louis stills to look up at him for a moment, steadying his gaze.

When Harry clears his throat, he snaps his head back down and puts the CDs back in the box. He reassures Harry that he’ll take them, only if he really doesn’t want any of them back. Harry pretends he doesn’t notice Louis purposely leave out the The Fray CD for him.

As Louis folds the box closed, his eyes shift to a pile of cards sitting at the edge of the table. Harry follows his gaze, panicking when he realizes what he's looking at.

“Are those-?”

“Sorry, I should’ve put those away,” Harry moves quickly to grab the stack of invitations off the table and stuffs them into an empty kitchen drawer so they’re out of sight.

“Harry, why do you still have those?” Louis asks quietly, moving out from behind the table and back to the kitchen.

“They were all finished and ready to be sent out the next day. I just- I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. I haven’t even touched them since we finished putting the stamps on.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. They just let the TV fill the noise of the background as Harry tries to look at anything except Louis who’s studying his every movement. He wants Louis to say something, _anything_. Just to reassure him that he isn’t crazy for feeling the way he feels. That he’s not holding on to something that’s long gone. Instead, Louis takes a step closer and pulls him into a hug by his waist, cheek resting just above his collarbone. Harry lifts his arms to wrap around Louis’ shoulders and nudges his nose into the crook of Louis’ neck. They’d always hug this way, even back when they were both the same height. Some things never change.

They don’t stay that way for long before Harry pulls away, deciding they should get to the reason Louis is there to begin with.

“I have more of your stuff in the spare room, if you want to go look through it in there,” Harry offers and Louis quickly nods, picking up his drink as Harry leads them down the hall.

The spare room is a bit of a mess from Harry’s attempt at organizing what he was going to take and what he needed to get rid of. In the midst of boxes and clothes and old  holiday decorations was Louis’ keyboard, set up in the corner next to an old bean bag chair that they decided didn’t work in their living room.

“Wow, I almost forgot I had this. I haven’t played in months,” Louis exclaimed, trying to avoid tripping over boxes as he made his way towards the keyboard. He looked back at Harry, still standing in the doorway, and patted the seat next to him, “C’mere,” he says.

Harry frowns, but stands from leaning against the doorframe and take the seat next to Louis while he scoots over.

“Remember this song?” Louis asks as he starts to move his fingers across the keys, a familiar tune sounding before he starts to sing.

 “ _Walking on the rooftops. Talking of times. With our eyes a glowing like the city lights._ ”

Harry recognizes the song almost immediately. He remembers hearing it on the radio on his way home from work one day. He loved it so much he practically bagged Louis to learn how to play it that night so he could teach it to him. He never could figure it out since he was a lost cause on piano (guitar was more his thing), but Louis could play beautifully and was always more than willing to play whatever Harry wanted to hear.

“ _Two lines, and a poet like a kind old rye. You know we could talk in that language only we understand._ ”

As Louis’ soft, melodic voice fills the room, Harry glances at his _forget me not_ tattoo peeking out from under his t-shirt. He wonders of the irony that tattoo might one day hold.

“ _Love, it feels like a long way down. So honey don't leave, don't leave. Please don't leave me now._ ”

The last lines are whispered and Louis’ eyes are glossy as he finishes the song with a deep sigh. It may not have been the best timing for that song, but Louis just wanted to play Harry one of his favourites.

“That was beautiful, Lou,” Harry tries while Louis continues to look at the keyboard.

“I, uh- why don’t we go through those boxes now, yeah?”

“Alright,” Harry shuffles awkwardly off the piano bench and onto the hardwood floor next to a pile of boxes. Louis does the same, careful not to spill is drink as he crosses his legs and sets it down next to his thigh.

A full thirty minutes pass before the topic comes up that they’ve been spending the night avoiding. They’ve been passing the time deciding what items Louis wants to take with him and what they should donate or throw away. Harry is yet to come across the box with their photo album and a few other things he is really unsure of keeping, but they have to get to it eventually.

Louis is the one to bring up the party first.

“Do you regret it?” Louis asks, breaking a moment of silence. Harry looks up at him, taken off guard, but he takes a long sip while waiting for Harry to answer.

“I don’t think so,” Harry replies honestly.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t think’?”

“We broke up, Lou. The wedding was called off and you moved out. I wouldn’t take it back but I wouldn’t do it again either. It's messing with my head,” Harry stresses.

“We never really did cancel the wedding though, just stopped planning it. Now that I think about it, we never really talked about anything. It’s almost like we’ve been on pause for the last few months.”

“On pause? Is that what you were thinking when you moved into a different flat? That this was just a break, just temporary?” Harry’s volume increased so he pushes his hair back with his fingers to try and calm down.

“I didn’t come here so we could fight, Harry. We needed to talk and be open with each other for once in our fucking lives. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

As Louis uncrosses his legs and moves forward, his foot knocks against his drink sending wine splashing across the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters as he picks up the glass and looks at the mess.

“S’alright, I’ll grab a towel,” Harry tells him, standing up and jogging towards the kitchen.

He opens a few drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. Two years he’s lived in that apartment and he still doesn’t get it right on the first try.

Instead of finding the tea towels at first, he comes across the stack of envelopes he tossed in there earlier in the evening. He can’t take his eyes off of them as he reaches down to pick a few up. The envelopes are a dark blue and each has an address handwritten in gold coloured pen. There were only about 40 invites since they agreed on a small wedding. The ceremony was going to be held in a tiny church back in their hometown where they first met. The date was set for mid-January so the winter theme would fit nicely. Louis even had the idea of getting Zayn to officiate the marriage since he was the one who introduced them in the beginning. It would also save the trouble of picking only two Best Men out of their three best friends. However, Niall already put dibs on one of the spots since he claimed no one else could pull off a bachelor party more kick-ass than he could.

“Did you get the towel?” Louis hollers from the other room.

“Yeah, just give me a sec,” he yells back.

Taking once last lingering glance at the cards, Harry collects them all in his hands and turns towards the garbage bin, letting them all fall into the bag. There was no sense saving them for anything. He didn’t need them anymore.

Returning to the spare room, Harry brings an old towel that already contains a few stains and the rest of the wine so Louis can refill his glass.

“What’s this?” Louis asks once the floor is cleaned. He’s holding up a copy of a screenplay that Harry didn’t even know he had kept in this room. Although he wasn’t surprised, he had rough drafts scattered all around the house.

“ _Something About the Lights_ ,” Harry declares, “It’s that screenplay I was working on. I have a meeting with a production company about selling it, you know.”

“Really?” Louis’ eyes widen and he’s grinning, “When’s your meeting?”

“Thursday. They said they liked what they read and want to discuss business so it sounds like it’ll work out,” he says, happy to be sharing something about his life with Louis again.

“That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you, H,” Louis gives him a soft pat on the shoulder, “Hey, what’s it about anyway?”

They’re sitting side by side now, backs up against the wall. He already told this to Louis once, but he wasn’t going to ruin this moment by mentioning it.

“It’s about these two teenagers that meet up on a bus. One guy is running away from home after finishing school and the other is searching for his mother who left when he was little. They end up taking a road trip across America together to find her. It’s a bit of a coming of age story, I guess. That’s always been my favourite genre.”

“It sounds brilliant, really. I can’t wait to see it in the theatre,” Louis nudges him in the ribs.

“Thank you. Maybe I’ll try to get you into the premier,” Harry smirks.

“And if not that I’ll just find my own way in. I can be very sneaky, you know.”

“I’ll distract security. They won’t even have a clue.”

“Now that’s something to make a movie about,” Louis shakes a finger.

“What, a guy who sneaks into movie premiers?”

“Movie premiers, celebrity parties, award shows, the possibilities are endless. You may want to tinker with the idea a bit.”

“I’ll look into it.”

They’re laughing together again and Harry realizes how much he enjoys this. Just spending time together, feeling purely carefree and happy. It’s been so long since he felt that way.

Louis looks to his side and peeks into a box, pulling out the photo album that Harry knew they’d come across eventually. He opens it and flips through a few pages, skipping some with each turn. He lands on the photos from their trip to Paris from a few years ago before he stops and closes it.

“I think we should save ‘memory lane’ for another day,” Louis says, tossing the book back into the box.

“So you think we should keep the album?” Harry asks hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t we? We have had some great memories. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to forget them.”

Harry doesn’t say anything back, just stares at the ground, wishing memories they made together didn't have to be a thing of the past.

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Louis decides, pushing himself off the wall to stand up. He has a box full of clothes and shoes and other things from around the apartment. The rest, they decided, should just be sold or donated. The wine was finished by now and Harry wonders if Louis should be driving himself home.

“Should I call you a cab?” he asks.

“That’d probably be a good idea. I took the train here, anyway. Dunno what I was thinking since I knew I had to take all this stuff back with me,” he picks up his box and starts walking towards the door.

“Hey, um, there was one other thing,” Harry says and Louis turns back around to look at him. He walks towards the closet and picks up a green baby blanket that they had kept. Louis bought it out of excitement the day after they got engaged. They always knew they wanted kids.

“Save it. Liam and Sophia will probably have a little one running around here soon. It’ll be a good first gift from their uncles.”

Louis’ out of the room now and Harry gives the blanket one last parting glance before tossing it across the room into the box with the photo album.

They wait in the kitchen for Louis’ cab to arrive. Harry is leaning over the sink to wash the two glasses and rinse out the wine bottle while Louis watches him from the counter he’s perched on. He tries not to think of what his normal approach to Louis sitting up there would be. It may or may not have ended with both of them naked and panting on the floor last time it happened, but that was behind them now.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other,” Louis says quietly and Harry stops what he’s doing. When he turns to face him, Louis looks small and is nervously chewing on a fingernail.

“It won’t be,” Harry tells him, drying his hands, “as cliché as it sounds, we still can be friends.”

“I don’t want to be friends, Harry. For fucks sake, I was ready to marry you! How are we supposed to go to just being friends after that?” he hops down and Harry steps closer until they’re just inches apart.

“I still love you, you know,” Harry says softly, brushing a piece of his fringe out of his eyes.

“See, that’s what I mean! I still love you too and I can’t just stop. I mean, I see how much better you’re doing with selling your script and moving out on your own again, but fuck, it still hurts to know I was the one holding you back. I should’ve been more supportive, but I fucked up and I’m just really sorry, okay? I just want you to know that I’m so proud of you and I’m so sorry,” his voice keeps cracking and by the end his eyes are full of tears and he’s sobbing into Harry’s chest.

“Don’t be sorry, Lou. I love you, but this isn’t what either of us need right now and you know that. We’re young and we need to experience life before we become so committed. I’m not going anywhere, I’m just not going to marry you.”

Louis looks up and with stained cheeks and puffy eyes and swollen lips, he pecks Harry slowly on the mouth. He doesn't say anything, but they both know that's the way it needs to be. At least for now.

When the cab finally arrives, Harry walks Louis to the door where the two boxes are sitting. It’s not really a goodbye, but it definitely feels like it. Almost like it’s the end of an era. In a way, it is. It’s the end of the most influential part of either of their lives so far. Harry’s sad, of course, but as he leaves a lingering kiss on Louis’ forehead and watches him leave out the door, he can’t help but feel a sense of completeness.

And chances are, someday down the road they’d see each other again and feel the spark reignite like it did six years ago, only then it might last. Because maybe it’s true that the one love is all that you get, but that love isn’t always meant to last. Either way, he had it. Whether or not he let it go, he was so, so grateful to just be a part of Louis’s life. To have him be a part of his. For now, all they could do is toast to what could have been as he says goodbye to his dearly departed.

His dear old friend.


End file.
